


Indecent Composure

by ArchOfImagine, hufflecas



Series: Indecency [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Airports, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Castiel is 18, Double Penetration, Hints of Stoner Castiel, Homophobic Language, Inappropriate crushes, Jock Castiel, Loving Marriage, M/M, Married Dean, Masturbation, Polyamory, Power Outage, Student Castiel, Teacher Dean, Teacher-Student Relationship, Top Castiel, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchOfImagine/pseuds/ArchOfImagine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflecas/pseuds/hufflecas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There always has to be <i>one</i> difficult student. Dean worked himself to the bone to get the money to take his students to Washington, D.C., and then Castiel Novak — football jock and C-average student — tried to sneak pot past airport security and made them miss their flight. Now Dean's snowed in with his husband, Paul, and Castiel. Of course, if he had known Castiel was harboring a crush on his two favorite teachers, Dean might have gotten two hotel rooms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **hufflecas:** The power at work just blinked. Now I want power outage fic.  
>  **ArchOfImagine:** What if they were on a field trip when the power went out?
> 
> ;) It's the simple things that bring inspiration. To our regular readers, this Paul will be a lot nicer than any previous version. A LOT. (To our non-regular readers: Paul is the name we've given to Gadreel's vessel - this Paul will be a lot like Tahmoh.)

”Mr. Novak, we’ve been over this time and time again — I don’t care how important your football scholarship is — if you can’t focus well enough in my class to get a passing grade, then I’m not helping you out just for kicks and giggles.”

Castiel resisted rolling his eyes and instead looked down at the paper on his desk, still barely touched. This class was killing him — he _hated_ history — but he needed it to graduate. He could feel Mr. Winchester standing over him without needing to see him there. In all honesty, the young teacher was the _least_ painful part of the class. Castiel would be lying if he said he never stole a glance or two or more when said teacher bent over to retrieve errant papers. "I know, Mr. Winchester. I appreciate the help, I do, it's just... I don't _get_ this stuff."

The rest of the students had already completed their tests and left the room for their next period. Mr. Winchester walked across the empty classroom and perched against the desk next to Castiel’s. “Probably because most of your time in here is spent on your cellphone.”

"I don't, though! I just use it to check the time!"

Mr. Winchester raised an eyebrow at that, and crossed his arms. "Then tell you what: you can have an extra thirty minutes — no, make it as long as you need—"

"Really?"

"—If you leave your phone on my desk the entire time. We got a deal?"

Castiel considered the offer — he knew Mr. Winchester was going easy on him. "Deal."

"Good." Mr. Winchester dropped his arms and picked up the paper up from Castiel's desk, before crossing to the front of the room. "I'll see you at three."

_Crap._ "But I have football practice."

"That's the offer, Mr. Novak. Take it or leave it," Mr. Winchester said, sitting down at his desk and picking up some papers there.

The message was clear. _I'm willing to help you, but I'm not going to hold your hand._ Castiel stood and gathered his things. "You win," he said. "Guess I'll see you at three."

“See you then.”

As Castiel walked through the door of the history classroom, his eyes were glued to his phone. Again. In retrospect, that was probably why he ran smack into six feet and four inches of solid math teacher. 

"Woah, watch it there, Castiel," Mr. Stewart said, his manner completely unruffled but not unkind. He held out an arm to steady the teen. "Are you alright?"

Castiel's brain short-circuited for a moment. Teachers weren't supposed to smell that good. "Uh, y-yeah."

"Is my husband in there?" he asked, indicating the classroom behind Castiel.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah he is."

"I'll see you later Castiel," Mr. Stewart said with a smile, patting Castiel on the shoulder as he walked by him.

"Yeah. Uh, bye. Mr. Stewart," Castiel replied, although the man was already in the classroom behind him.

"Dean," Castiel heard Mr. Stewart say.

"Hey, Paul," came Mr. Winchester's reply, the warm tone clear in his voice.

Castiel shook his head as he finally began to move down the hallway. It was so weird to hear teachers have first names.

\---

Under normal circumstances, Dean hated field trips. They were usually tedious to plan and overrun with problems that he didn’t want to deal with. But he had been the biggest advocate for this particular trip. Most of the students at Lawrence High School had been born and raised in Kansas and as such had never even been out of the state, much less ever made the journey to Washington, D.C.

As a passionate U.S. History nerd, Dean couldn’t let all of his students go off to college without at least _some_ knowledge of where the founding fathers developed their new nation. So he worked out the logistics of the trip, helped find sponsors for funding, worked day and night to get volunteers and donations… and he made it happen.

The rest of the school’s faculty, except for Paul, claimed that Dean was still just riding the high of being a first year teacher. But he had made himself a promise and told every major donor that he would be back the following year to raise money for the next trip.

After a month of frantic and exhausting planning, fifteen seniors were approved to fly to Washington, D.C. for a week of American civics and history. Dean, Paul, and an English teacher, Rebecca, were the only adults crazy enough to go chaperone the trip. All in all, however, the week-long trip was amazing. The group got to see every major landmark that was on Dean’s list, and the weather even behaved. That is, until the day they were due to go home.

“Here.” Dean handed the boarding passes out to the students and chaperones and motioned towards the security gates. “We’re running late thanks to the damn shuttle driving five miles an hour in the snow. So I want everyone to follow Ms. Sharma through security and go directly to the gate. No bathroom stops — you can pee on the plane. Paul and I will be at the back of the group to make sure everyone gets through security okay.” He looked down at the two remaining boarding passes in his hand and frowned. One was his own, and the other belonged to — “Mr. Novak?”

“He’s not here,” a voice called from in the group.

Dean’s green eyes immediately shot to Paul as he tried to remember if he had done a proper head count in the shuttle. “What do you mean _’he’s not here’_?”

“He was on the bus, but he walked off once we got to the airport.”

_Shit._ Dean turned to Rebecca. “Go. Get everyone else to the gate. The ticket agent said they were rushing things in order to get the flights out before the snow. I don’t want all of us to miss the plane.” His eyes turned to his most reliable student. “Rico, you’re in charge of the rear. Make sure everyone gets through. Mr. Stewart and I will look for Mr. Novak and meet you guys at the gate. Clear?” Everyone nodded and the students quickly dispersed to follow Rebecca with Rico at the rear of the group.

“I’m sure he isn’t far,” Paul said once everyone else had walked away. Like always, his husband’s soothing voice was enough to settle most of the nerves in Dean’s stomach. “There’s some restrooms over by the entrance — you look there and I’ll check the food court. We’ll meet back up in front of security in ten minutes.”

With a nod, Dean tucked their boarding passes into his backpack and pulled the straps over his shoulders, before moving towards the bathrooms. It was amazing that hunting down an eighteen-year-old senior could somehow also feel like looking for a kindergartner. 

He pushed into the men’s room. “Mr. Novak? Castiel? Come on, we’re late!” At first glance, the bathroom appeared to be empty — until Dean heard rustling and a panicked, “Shit!” murmured under someone’s breath in the last stall. “Enough fooling around — we need to go _now._ ”

“Uh, I’m a little busy, Mr. Winchester! I’ll be right there!”

Dean crossed the long room in only a few strides until he found himself in front of the sole occupied cubicle. “We’ve got to be at our gate ten minutes ago, let’s—” Dean raised his hand to rap at the door for emphasis. He hadn’t expected the door to be unlocked — or to swing open to reveal Castiel Novak frantically shoving a half ounce of marijuana into his underwear. “—go,” he finished lamely, his hand hanging in mid-air.

“I can explain, Mr. Winchester!” Castiel said, more than a little frantically.

“ _Castiel,_ ” Dean began very slowly, “Why do you have drugs on my _very_ expensive field trip?” It was maybe a little stupid that his first worry was how much money had been spent to get everyone to D.C., but that was all Dean could think of in his panic. 

“That’s the thing, though — pot’s a lot cheaper in D.C., for some reason. I got a great deal!”

“You can’t — that’s going to get you arrested as soon as you step foot past security, Cas. They don’t just let you bring illegal drugs on airplanes.” He shook his head and threw his arms into the air. “You shouldn’t have illegal drugs in the first place!”

“Pot shouldn’t be illegal,” Castiel muttered angrily, “it’s _natural_ —”

Dean sucked in a heavy sigh. He could feel a sharp pinch between his brows.

“—And besides,” Castiel continued, his tone pleading, “I heard if you wrap it in tinfoil first the scanners don’t pick it up.”

“Dean?” 

He turned around at the sound of his husband’s voice. “In here.” When Paul rounded the corner, Dean felt his heart sink at the look on the other man’s face. _Not good._ “What happened?”

“I just got a text from Rebecca. She didn’t know what else to do — so when they started boarding, she got everyone on the plane.” Paul glanced between Dean and Castiel. “The doors are shut and they’ve pulled away from the gate. We’ve officially missed the last flight home.”

Dean closed his eyes and slowly began to massage his temples. He said nothing for at least a solid minute. “Okay,” he said. “It’s okay. Do you know when the next flight is?”

“They have one tomorrow,” Paul answered. “It’d be thirty-five hundred dollars a ticket.”

“It— _what?_ ”

“And that isn’t even guaranteed because the snow is getting worse and things are starting to get cancelled. The ticket agent I talked to said she could put us on a wait list… it’ll be about three or four days, sooner if the snow lets up.”

Taking a deep breath, Dean tried to pull himself off the edge of a panic attack. “What… what do we do now?”

Paul wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders and pulled him close. “I’ve called our hotel and worked out a room for the next few nights.”

“Okay. This will be okay. Did our bags get checked?”

“Yeah,” Paul nodded. “But we put a spare set of clothes in our carry-ons remember? We’ll be fine, Dean.” He stopped and pointed at Castiel. “You’re doing an extra essay on Washington, D.C. because of this mess.”

Castiel gaped at Paul, not saying anything.

“Okay. We’ll manage. I’ll call Principal Brown from the hotel. And _you_ ,” he said, turning his gaze on Castiel and holding out his hand, “give me that.”

\---

They ate dinner at the hotel’s restaurant because it was too cold and snowy to go anywhere else. Once they got back into their room, Paul had Castiel call his parents to update them, before he called the principal to do the same. Dean was too shell-shocked to know what else to do. He was _not_ good with change. All he could manage was to text his brother and ask him to continue watching their dogs.

After a couple of HBO movies they took turns in the shower, before settling into bed. If it was weird for Castiel to share a room with his married gay teachers, he didn’t say anything about it. Although he seemed to still be licking his wounds after the phone call with his father. 

Laying his head down on soft hotel pillow, Dean was finally able to take a relaxing breath. When his husband climbed into bed a moment later, he snuggled into the warm embrace without thinking twice and sighed contentedly. 

He buried his face into Paul’s soft and worn t-shirt, letting his husband’s reassuring warmth seep into every cell of his being. For a moment he actually forgot Castiel was even there. 

Paul lifted his head to watch Castiel for a moment, before he moved down farther beneath the covers and kissed Dean sweetly. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” Dean whispered back. “And I’m so fucking glad you’re here with me — even if we have the world’s worst third wheel with us.”

“I can hear you whispering!” Castiel announced to the room at large. 

Dean poked his head above the blanket in time to see Castiel switch off the main light and crawl into the second bed. “If our cheesiness bothers you, Cas, then you can consider it your punishment for getting us stuck in this mess in the first place.”

Castiel grumbled under his breath as he turned to face the opposite wall, but it was too low for Dean to actually make out words.

And if he couldn’t understand it, he was going to ignore it.

Relief flooded through Dean when Castiel finally turned off the lamp beside his bed, his phone plugged in for the night across the room. He snuggled even closer to Paul than he’d been before, tucking his head under Paul’s chin and sliding his hands under the old t-shirt to find smooth, hot skin.

Like it normally did when they were snuggling in bed, Paul’s thumb began brushing soft circles along Dean’s upper back. Dean and Paul had met in college, when Dean was a pimply faced freshman and Paul was the hot TA for his philosophy class. It was love at first sight for Dean, and he hadn’t felt differently since. 

The breathing in the next bed over had slowed rather quickly and Dean felt thankful for small miracles. He tilted his head up and mouthed a wet, sucking kiss into the tender skin of Paul’s throat.

“Dean.”

“Mmm?” Dean’s hand moved to Paul’s hip, where his fingers began to creep under the waistband of his husband’s pajama pants. He pulled Paul closer to him, making sure he could feel Dean’s erection bump against his thigh.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, weakly trying to pull away from Dean’s insistent embrace. “We shouldn’t. Castiel—”

“—Is _asleep,_ ” Dean finished for him, his hand sliding down to cup one side of Paul’s ass. “The kid’s practically snoring.” He scraped his teeth gently along the side of Paul’s neck, smiling at the shivers it brought out of the man. “Please, baby. After the day I’ve had I _need_ this. I’ll be quiet.”

“You’re _never_ quiet,” Paul managed, softly. His hand pushed beneath Dean’s shirt and tickled along Dean’s skin. “But I guess you’re right.”

“I wish you could fuck me right now,” Dean whispered. “But I know you can’t, it’s okay,” he added when Paul recoiled slightly. “Maybe we can send him on a grocery run tomorrow or something.”

“Maybe.” Paul finally reached down the front of Dean’s sleep pants, his large, strong hand wrapping itself around Dean’s length. 

_Oh holy fuck._ Even after four years together, it still felt amazing every single time. Dean shifted his hips and bit his bottom lip. Paul was right — he was generally pretty noisy during sex. Gripping Paul’s ass, he pulled him closer — if that was even possible — and turned his head to capture his husband’s lips in a rough kiss.

Paul began to stroke Dean slowly, and Dean tried his best to confine his whimper to the inside of Paul’s mouth. He slowed his touch, pulling away from the kiss. “Shhh, baby.”

“I just,” Dean was almost gasping. His cock was so hard it almost ached, and he could feel the precome making Paul’s hand slick against him. “I need you. I need more.”

“I’ll give you more,” he whispered against the side of Dean’s face, “I’ll give you whatever you need if you’re good and _quiet_ for me. Got it?”

Dean nodded emphatically, eager for his husband to continue.

Paul’s lips brushed over Dean’s ear. “Roll onto your belly. Muffle those pretty noises in the pillow.” When Dean did as he was told, Paul let his hand drop away from Dean’s cock. A moment later, Dean could hear a soft ‘pop’ as Paul wet two fingers in his mouth. Those same slick fingers drifted down Dean’s back and along his ass crack, before circling Dean’s hole. 

_Shit._ It occurred to him what his husband was planning, and he wasn’t sure he could survive it.

Paul covered the length of Dean’s back with his body, and his breath was hot on Dean’s neck. “I’m going to fuck you with my fingers,” he said, the words barely audible at all, “and you’re going to rut against the bed like the slut you are.”

Dean’s cock twitched and his heart warmed at the same time — Paul always knew exactly what turned Dean on the most. Always knew exactly what he needed. He nodded, taking a mouthful of pillow between his teeth.

His finger slipped past Dean’s rim, brushing forward and twisting. Paul had his timing down pat and, right when Dean needed it, a second finger joined the first. It barely took any time at all before the fingers were running over his prostate and — _holyshitohmygod_ — Dean’s hips bounced along the mattress below him. He was going to have fabric burns on his dick by the time he was done.

Paul began working his fingers in and out of Dean. His saliva was _almost_ adequate lube, but they both knew how much Dean liked a little burn.

\---

In the next bed, Castiel lay with his back to Mr. Winchester and Mr. Stewart. Apparently they thought he was sleeping. Even muffled and from across the room, Castiel could hear every shuddered breath and whisper. It was driving him _insane._

At first he had tried to resist, but when he heard the bed start to softly hit the wall as they shook it, Castiel couldn’t handle it any longer. He pushed his hand beneath his boxers and wrapped it around his hard cock. His movements were desperate and needy and he had to force himself to slow his pace. After a few minutes the gasps from the other bed reached a pinnacle in pace and intensity and he stroked himself quickly to match. He was fairly sure that he and Mr. Winchester came at the same time.

After the high dwindled away, a weird feeling settled in his stomach. How was he supposed to look his teachers in the eye now that he’d masturbated to them?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added a tag for homophobic language starting in this chapter. Also this story will be completely bottom!Dean, and Cas will probably switch roles (topping with Dean/bottoming with Paul), just as a way of warning for future bits.
> 
> Also: the good news is, you get 4k of chapter. The bad news is: we're too lazy to read it *again* so forgive any mess ups.

Someone had forgotten to close the curtain the night before, and Dean woke up to blinding white snowstorm light filling their modest hotel room. He blinked the harsh light back, his first instinct to retreat beneath the covers for an indefinite amount of time, especially after he remembered where he was. Reaching across Paul’s sleeping body, he checked his phone. No new messages from the airline. They were still stranded.

Looking across the room confirmed that Castiel was still asleep as well, despite being more on top of his covers than under them.

He put his phone back down and snuggled against his husband — until his bladder began to protest. Braving the cruel cold air outside the bed, Dean shuffled to the bathroom, relieved himself, and made his way back to the main room. By the time he did, however, Paul was sitting up in bed, and very pointedly trying not to stare at the other bed.

Dean frowned, about to ask what was going on, when Paul held up a solitary finger against his lips and pointed at Castiel. When his eyes finally landed on the younger man, he had to bite his lip to keep from gasping out loud. 

Sweat had Castiel’s dark shaggy hair matted to his forehead, and he was tossing and turning so much he had completely freed himself from the blankets. First glance would give the impression of a nightmare — but Cas’ cock was tenting his boxers obscenely and every few seconds the boy would let out a sharp moan.

Shit, he was having a _naughty_ dream right there in their room! Dean could remember the days of having that kind of stamina and constant need thanks to hormones. He felt his own cock twitch to life and frowned — not quite sure what to do. He looked back towards his husband, silently communicating how confused he was about what should happen next.

Paul motioned towards Dean and he snapped out of it long enough to walk to his husband’s side of the bed. “We should—”

“—Probably ignore that,” Paul finished, reaching up to lay a hand on Dean’s arm. “I wonder,” he said, glancing behind his shoulder, “what he’s dreaming about.” He arched his eyebrows in a curious expression.

“ _That’s_ inappropriate,” Dean said, teasing. He didn’t voice the fact that he was having the same thought. “Well, I’m awake now,” he added in between the moans floating over towards them. “You want coffee?”

His husband pressed the palm of his right hand down against the front of his pants. “Hmm?”

Dean took a moment to ponder the arousal that Paul was obviously dealing with, before shaking his head and taking a step back. “Come on,” he whispered. “Lets go downstairs for breakfast.”

“Sure, of course.” Paul rose from the bed, and since they were both wearing perfectly suitable t-shirts and sleep pants, he bypassed the idea of changing into the day’s clothes.

Dean didn’t blame him. If they were going to be stuck inside for most of the day anyways, he wanted to be as comfortable as possible. He grabbed a keycard and they had both made it to the room door when they froze. On the second bed, Castiel had begun to rock his hips while moaning a chorus of _‘oh Dean’_ over and over.

_Holy shit._ He looked up in shock and held Paul’s gaze. The recognition and desire in his husband’s gray eyes sent a shiver down Dean’s spine. A second later, a firm grasp was grabbing Dean’s bicep and pulling him into the bathroom.The door closed gently and Paul turned the light and overhead fan on before shoving his pants down his legs.

His hard cock sprang free and he growled at Dean, “Get on your knees and suck me off… _now._ ”

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. He dropped to his knees, digging his fingertips into Paul’s hips as he leaned forward and devoured Paul’s cock in one slick movement. He hollowed his cheeks and hummed against the hot weight in his mouth when he felt desperate hands clutch and tug at his hair.

“Fuck, Dean, your _mouth,_ ” Paul’s voice was dark and breathy above him. “So fucking good.”

Dean smiled as best he could, thinking back to the first time he’d gone down on Paul, in Paul’s supervising professor’s office, during a class they were both supposed to be in. He bobbed his head and up and down Paul’s length, keeping a steady pace, until—

“Dean, please. I need, I need to—”

_There it is._ They knew each other so well. He pulled off his husband’s cock, bringing his hand up to finish what his mouth had started. He tilted his face up, mouth slightly open, and after a few expert strokes Paul came, hot and sticky, on Dean’s face.

Paul leaned back against the wall for a few long moments as he caught his breath. Once he recovered, he looked down at Dean who was happily cleaning Paul’s cock off with his tongue. Paul’s thumb brushed along Dean’s face to scoop up the stripes of come, before he pushed it past Dean’s lips. 

With a moan, Dean sucked the digit clean as he held the gaze that was focused down on him. When Paul smirked, Dean felt burning hot desire pooling in his stomach. He was suddenly dragged up to his feet and spun around to face the bathroom counter. Paul pushed him forward against the granite knock-off and quickly shoved Dean’s pants down to the ground.

A moment later, Paul was knelt down behind Dean, and Dean was watching the pleasure wash over his own face as he felt his husband spreading his asscheeks and licking a long strip along his hole. 

“Shit!” he cried, planting one hand on the counter as the other gripped his cock. Paul’s tongue circled around his hole once, twice, three times before deftly pushing inside. He stroked himself erratically, trying to fight the urge — and mostly failing — to grind back against Paul’s mouth.

Paul’s right hand moved up to cup Dean’s balls, gently rolling them and tugging them at just the right pressure to drive Dean insane. It was too good, too much, and Dean was coming in rush, hot come landing on the counter, in a ridiculously quick amount of time.

Paul stood up to press tender kisses to the back of Dean’s neck, his arms wrapping around Dean’s middle. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, “and I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Dean said, spinning around to pull his husband in for a tight hug. “Shit, thank you. I needed that.”

Paul hummed in agreement as he nuzzled against Dean’s neck.

"But… what are we going to do about him?" Dean asked.

Paul shrugged. "Just keep ignoring it — we should be able to fly out of here by tomorrow."

"But," Dean said, lowering his voice to an urgent whisper, "you heard how he said my name. He _likes_ me!"

"Of course he does," Paul said with a good-natured chuckle. "But it's just a crush. You remember what it's like to be queer in high school. And he's a jock — you're probably the only teacher he can stand. "

Dean pouted. “Are you trying to say people can’t just like me because I’m the hottest teacher in the school?”

“Well, that certainly doesn’t hurt. But he does it around me, too.” 

“Wait, does what?”

“Oh, you know, stares at me a little too long when he thinks I’m not looking. But he does it a _lot_ more with you.”

“What? Why didn’t you mention any of this before?”

Paul shrugged. “I didn’t think it would ever amount to anything. He’s a smart kid — I have him in my class too, and I know him well enough to know there’s more going in his head than a lot of people assume. You wouldn’t hold his interest very long if it were purely physical.”

“True. I gave him a bit of leniency to qualify for this trip, because I thought it’d be good for him. Then he goes and gets us stranded here.” Dean shifted his hips, brushing his flaccid dick along Paul’s. “Now I’m as horny as a teenager and stuck in a room _with_ a teenager.” He moved his lips to brush along Paul’s ear. “We haven’t fucked all week because of these damn kids.”

“Well, we just fucked a little, didn’t we?” He rocked his hips forward, his soft cock brushing against Dean’s. “I promise you, when we get home we’re both going to take a day off school to recover and stay in bed and fuck all day long.”

“But—” he sighed. “Can’t we send the kid out for food or something? Surely we can find a way to get rid of him for thirty minutes.”

“Maybe we can,” Paul replied, “ _but_... do you not remember what happened when he was unsupervised at the airport for less than five minutes?”

Dean groaned, lightly hitting his head against Paul’s shoulder. “I. Need. To. Be. Fucked. Paul.”

“I know, baby,” he said, planting a kiss to the side of Dean’s head, “I know. This’ll all be over soon, okay? Let’s go grab some breakfast. Maybe if the restaurant’s not busy I can jerk you off under the table.”

“You’re not funny.”

\---

Their opportunity presented itself that evening. They all had a strong craving for pizza. The nearest place was three blocks away but because of the snow all deliveries were cancelled. Dean looked to Paul with silent pleas of desperation. Finally — _finally_ — his husband caved and asked Castiel if he’d like to walk to grab their pizza.

Castiel looked anxious to get out of the room and agreed immediately. Dean watched the exchange of money and felt a rumbling of delight when Paul added an item to the order post-phone call so that Castiel would have to sit and wait for the extra breadsticks to be baked.

Before Cas had even left the room, Dean grabbed his carry-on bag and slipped into the bathroom. He was halfway through stretching himself open against the bathroom counter, when Paul knocked on the door.

“Dean?” he called through the door. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

“What — _unh_ — what do you think I’m doing?”

“I think you’re fingering yourself open so I can fuck you senseless.”

“You’re a clever man, Mr. Stewart.”

“Why don’t you come on out here and let me help?”

Dean definitely couldn’t argue with that idea. He picked up the bottle of lube and threw the bathroom door open. Thankfully, after four years together, he only blushed a _little_ when he appeared in front of his husband completely naked, lube in hand, and asshole fluttering with the need to be filled. “You rang?”

Paul grinned before wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and practically flinging him onto the nearest bed — which just so happened to be the one that Castiel had been sleeping in. The bed shook and creaked under their weight as Paul toppled onto the bed with him, knocking into him before he lay down so that their feet kicked against the pillows, their heads almost hanging off the foot of the bed.

Dean settled back into the bed contentedly as his husband kissed down his chest and stomach, Paul’s hands gently pushing Dean’s legs apart at the same time. His hole was already slick from when he’d started prepping himself, so the extra lube Paul squirted on his fingers felt fabulous. He gasped as Paul started with three fingers right away, bringing his head down to mouth at the side of Dean’s leaking cock.

“Ugh, that feels amazing,” Dean gasped, “but we don’t have time for foreplay.” He rocked between Paul’s fingers and his mouth. “Will you just fuck me already?” 

His husband pulled away suddenly and leveled a soft glare in Dean’s direction, as a couple fingers brushed over his prostate. “Are you telling me what to do?” The nod came by instinct and a moment later, Paul’s fingers were gone and he was turning Dean onto his stomach. A hard swat landed on Dean’s ass right before the lube bottled was opened again. “I expect the whole motel to hear those pretty screams and moans, pet.”

It was a command that Dean could easily follow, because the first glide of Paul’s slick cock into his tight hole was enough to have him crying out obscenities and clenching the bed sheets.

“Oh, _holy fuck, Paul,_ ” Dean moaned, bucking his hips back onto Paul’s cock. “Fuck, split me open, please.”

Paul gave no reply but to begin to fuck Dean recklessly. Their breathing was ragged and heavy and echoed in Dean’s ear — so much so that he didn’t hear the soft _click_ of the key-card opening their room door.

“Well that was a fucking bust,” Castiel called as he entered the room. “There’s a blizzard white-out in effect and you can’t see two feet in front of your—” He stopped, finally stepping into the main area of the room and seeing them on his bed. “—face.”

Silence descended in the room, heavy and thick like the snow outside. The way the room was arranged — and the way they’d landed on the bed — had both Dean and Paul staring straight ahead of them at Castiel, still standing at the door only a few feet away. No one said a word, and Castiel’s movement stilled, like he was afraid of startling a wild animal he’d just disturbed. 

Dean stared at Castiel, horrified, and having no idea what to do. The student stared back at him, and Dean half-expected the boy to turn and bolt, if not back outside then at least to the bathroom. But he didn’t. After a few long moments his eyes finally broke from Dean’s, but they stayed close. In fact, as far as Dean could tell, he was staring at Paul, and Paul was staring back.

Paul’s cock was still rock-hard in Dean’s ass, and showing no sign of losing interest. When he felt his husband pull back, he assumed he was going to pull out all the way, they would scramble for their clothes, and he would bribe Castiel with all the pizza in D.C. to never speak of this again.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Paul to push his cock back in.

\---

Castiel was going to a special place in hell for having such a huge crush on his teachers. For _dreaming_ about them and waking up with messy boxers and praying he hadn’t done anything embarrassing in front of them.

But honestly, how fair was it that his math teacher _and_ his history teacher had the bodies of Greek Gods? And that it was common knowledge that they slept together on a constant basis.

Hell. He was going to hell. He had already booked a ticket.

When he stepped into the hotel room again and complained loudly about the weather outside, the last thing he was expecting was to walk in on Mr. Winchester and Mr. Stewart fucking. On _his_ bed. 

He couldn’t even see much more than Mr. Winchester’s naked back and Mr. Stewart’s naked chest and stomach — but it didn’t matter. He _knew_ what they were doing. 

His dick hardened faster than it ever had. Castiel tore his eyes away from Mr. Winchester and looked behind him to where Mr. Stewart was. He stared into those always-focused gray eyes and felt his heart racing in his chest.

Then he caught sight of the movement, and his eyes tracked down to watch Mr. Stewart slowly begin to thrust in and out of Mr. Winchester’s ass.

“Holy shit,” he gasped.

Mr. Winchester’s eyes blinked closed, his mouth hanging open, as the movements behind him picked up in speed. And intensity, if the way he was being shuffled forward on the bed was any indication. His green eye’s found Castiel’s again. “I think,” he said, sweat glistening on his back, “that he likes what he sees.”

_I’m going to hell,_ was his last coherent thought before he stepped up to the edge of the bed. He didn’t bother with asking if it was alright — the mood of the room gave him all the answer he needed — before he shoved his pants down far enough to free his cock and stroked it a couple of times. He was _right there,_ so close to Mr. Winchester’s mouth — just like he’d always dreamed about. The need was so great, that he stepped forward and rubbed a drop of precome onto puffy pink lips, hoping his teacher would get the memo.

When Mr. Winchester opened his mouth Castiel thought he was going to pass out. But he kept it together, somehow, and pushed into beautiful, wet heat. He was unable to tear his eyes away from seeing those pink lips stretched around his cock. Despite waking up the way he had that morning, he’d been on edge and knew he wasn’t going to last very long. The way Mr. Winchester was bobbing his head back and forth encouraged Castiel to slowly thrust his hips as well. It must have been crystal-clear how close he was, because just as he felt the familiar heat pool in his gut, Mr. Stewart spoke for the first time.

“He likes when you come on his face,” he said between grunts. 

The noise that Mr. Winchester moaned around Castiel’s cock was enough to send him toppling over the edge. Remembering Mr. Stewart’s words, he pulled out just in time to shoot sticky white ropes of come onto his history teacher’s cheek.

The sounds that Mr. Winchester made as he came almost had Castiel’s cock hardening again immediately. His come was on his teacher’s face — and now his teacher’s come was on _his_ bed. _Fuck,_ why was that so hot?

Mr. Stewart grunted, and Castiel looked up in time to watch the other man empty himself into his husband’s ass. 

It was too much. Castiel felt like he was going to pass out from all of the lust coursing through him. He must have wavered on his feet, because a beat later Mr. Stewart was climbing off the bed, his cock still half-hard and hanging heavy between his thighs, concern painted on his face as he placed a heavy hand on Castiel’s shoulder.

“Hey Cas, you okay?”

“I just…” He shook his head, looking up to see the come coating Mr. Stewart’s cock. _Mmm…_ He could imagine the rest of it dripping slowly out of Mr. Winchester’s ass. Oh God. “This is just so fucking… _hot._ ”

Mr. Stewart huffed a laugh and patted Castiel’s shoulder before bending down to retrieve a pair of boxers from the floor. “Why don’t we get you a glass of water? And you might want to, um, clean up.”

A few minutes later, once they were all cleaned up and dressed, Castiel sat on his bed and stared at his feet as his teachers stared at him from the opposite bed. He wasn’t ashamed of his actions — or any part of what had taken place, for that matter — but it was _really_ intimidating to have two teachers staring at you. No matter what the situation.

“This was a bad idea,” Mr. Winchester commented. “Why didn’t I listen to you, Paul?”

“I think we’re both to blame here, sweets.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. They were treating him like a kid. Treating the whole situation like some gross pedophilic act that they had to turn themselves in for. “You know I’m eighteen, right? And it’s almost March — in four months you won’t even be my teachers.”

“That’s not the point,” Mr. Winchester said, fastening his watch on his wrist. “We’re your teachers _now,_ and that shouldn’t have happened.”

“No one has to know,” Castiel argued. “It’s not like I’m going to go spreading this around at school. Hell I can’t even—” He stopped abruptly, not wanting to get into the fact that he was still very much in the closet. Why would he brag about screwing his _male_ teachers?

Mr. Winchester’s eyes narrowed. “Can’t even what?”

His husband spoke over him. “Castiel, does your family know you’re gay?” 

Castiel picked nervously at an invisible string on his pants. “No, of course not. My father is practically the spokesman for homophobes. ‘Queers can’t play sports,’” he mimicked his father’s voice. “‘Why do they let those fags out on the field? They’re ruining the sanctity of the game!’”

“Yeah, ‘cause sports were so fuckin’ holy to begin with,” Mr. Winchester snorted.

Castiel couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“What?” Mr. Winchester was indignant. “It wasn’t _that_ funny.”

“No, it’s just… hearing a teacher swear. It’s weird.”

Mr. Stewart cleared his throat to garner their attention. He did that a lot. Castiel liked counting the seconds after he did to see how long it took everyone in the classroom to shut up. “Castiel, I’m really not sure that continuing whatever… _this_... is, is a good idea.”

His face fell. Of course the voice of reason had to still be in the room. He finally found guys that he was attracted to and thought he could be with, and he was being rejected.

Although, what did he really expect? They were his _teachers_ and they were _married._ “‘s fine. I’m gonna…” He stood, pulling at his collar and feeling his skin heat in embarrassment. “I’m gonna walk downstairs to get a snack at that little store.”

Mr. Stewart rose, and picked his overcoat up off a nearby chair. “I’ll go,” he said. “Why don’t you relax for a bit?” He slipped on his shoes and was out the door before either Mr. Winchester or Castiel could make one word of protest.

Castiel pouted. “How am I supposed to escape and brood if he goes?”

Mr. Winchester chuckled. “Because he obviously thinks that you and I should talk. He… he does that sometimes.”

“No offense, Mr. W, but I’m not really in the mood for hearing about how bad of an idea this all was and how I’m a stupid kid that shouldn’t want you guys.” He frowned. “Or how I’m weird for liking the type of people I like. There’s a reason why I’m a fucking virgin. I make the wrong fucking move towards someone at school and suddenly my name is trashed, my college prospects are out the door, and my parents are kicking me out on the street.”

“Call me Dean.”

_Wait, what?_

Mr. Winchester — no, _Dean_ — spoke on, obviously taking Castiel’s confused look as a need for further explanation. “I mean, I did just have your cock in my mouth. That sort of indicates a certain… familiarity, doesn’t it?”

“I guess so.”

“Cas, you’re not weird, and there’s nothing wrong with you for liking who you like. Even if it’s two old weirdos like us.”

“There’s no way you’re more than ten years older than I am, Mr. Win—Dean.”

“I’m not.” The silence hung between them.

“Can we…” Castiel frowned, waiting for a long moment before taking a deep breath and gaining back an air of confidence. “Can we make a deal? Kinda like with Vegas… what happens in D.C., stays in D.C.? I think it’s fairly obvious that I have no intention of talking about this to anyone. I’ve never even told my friends I’m gay…”

“Of course,” Dean said. “What happened here will never go beyond Paul and I. You have our word. But that doesn’t mean it should go any farther than it just went.”

“But that’s what I’m saying. It _can_ and if we’re all consenting adults — what’s the problem?” His thoughts cut off as something occurred to him. “Oh. Unless…” The confidence flew back out the window. “Fuck, I’m so stupid. Forget it. Here I am pleading to be fucked by two _married_ guys like they would actually do that. Shit.” Castiel stood in a rush, slapping his hand lightly as he went for his jacket. “I gotta go. Gotta walk. Get out of here. Please forget everything I just said.”

“Sure,” Dean said, looking down at the ground before meeting Castiel’s eyes again. “You go get some air, make sure you take your coat.”

Castiel donned his winter coat, and his scarf, making sure he had his key card before placing his hand on the door handle.

“And Cas? Come back, okay?”

“Where else would I go?”


	3. Chapter 3

Paul came back thirty minutes after Castiel had left to get some air. He sat with Dean and they began to work through the junk food Paul had brought back in relative silence. After opening the second bag of potato chips Dean remarked that Castiel had been gone for an hour. However, a quick reconnaissance mission from Paul revealed the boy camped out in the hotel lobby with his headphones and a book.

“He’ll be fine,” Paul said, laying a reassuring hand on his husband’s shoulder. “We know where he is and besides, there’s nowhere in here for him to have his own space.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Dean covered Paul’s hand with his own and gave it a squeeze. “We’ll go get him for dinner though, right?”

“Of course.”

“Paul,” Dean pulled his husband down to sit across from him on the bed, “what the hell are we doing?”

Paul quirked an eyebrow. “Waiting out a blizzard in Washington so that we can go home?” Dean gave his husband a _‘that’s not what I mean and you know it’_ look, and Paul chuckled. “What do you want us to be doing, Dean?”

“How about not corrupting innocent young boys? I think that’d be a good place to start.” Dean scrubbed at his face with his fingers.

“Well,” Paul shrugged, “Castiel is right. If he’s a consenting adult, the only issues with it are on a moral level. So, tell me this — if Castiel wasn’t your student, and we met him at the grocery store or some other mundane location, what would your reaction be?”

“I’d be all over him.”

His husband nodded like he’d been expecting Dean to answer like that. Of course he did — Paul knew him well enough to know his kinks and desires. All his wants and needs. “Now, tell me what you want to happen this weekend, Dean.”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

Dean swallowed thickly. “I kind of want the both of you to fuck me senseless.”

A smirk crossed Paul’s face. “I was so turned on watching him fuck your mouth. I can’t imagine seeing his cock sliding in and out of your ass.”

“Fuck,” Dean said, feeling his cock twitch in his pants. “I want you to watch that — I want you to teach him how to fuck me.”

“Yeah? Show him how to drive you insane? Take you apart piece by piece? I think I like that idea.” Paul leaned over, kissing along Dean’s neck. “We can give him the talk, Dean. Make sure he knows that nothing that happens this weekend will impact his normal day to day life.”

“Are you sure that’s gonna make this… okay?” Dean closed his eyes, trying his best to not let the positively electric kisses completely destroy his faculty for speech. “I mean, he’s still my student. _Our_ student. This is the same guy I’ve been spending all semester with battling over sloppy homework and late essays!”

Paul’s thumb ran over Dean’s pouting bottom lip. “Then we tell him it can’t be a thing. After this.”

“Yeah. It can’t be a thing.” He looked into those steady gray eyes that had seen him through so much. “Just while we’re stuck here — if he’s into it, then he’s into it. Then everything goes back to normal and we go back to riding his ass about his grades.”

Paul laughed. “So until we’re back in Kansas we just ride his ass for fun?”

Dean grinned. “If he’s into it. It’s gotta be a no-pressure situation.”

Lips found Dean’s neck once more, as Paul’s hand ran over the Dean’s thigh. “While we’re still alone, why don’t you tell me about some of the fantasies you’ve been having?”

Dean groaned into the touch, reaching up to run his fingers through Paul’s short hair. “He said he’s a virgin — I want to prep him nice and slow before watching you pound into him for the first time.”

“Fuck,” Paul growled into Dean’s skin. “Tell me more.”

“I want to lick him open for you, have him shaking on my tongue. I want you to fuck him until he comes in my mouth.”

“Oh, babe, I’m so excited to see you with another guy. Remember Sean? We were so excited and then he got that job in Chicago.”

“Biggest shame that I only got to see him ride your cock once.” 

“He was such a mouthy little bottom.” Paul’s eyes caught on the clock beside the bed. “We should probably head down to dinner soon. Wanna discuss this arrangement with Cas there, so it’s neutral, non-bedroom, ground?”

“I think that’s a good plan. I heard from the airline, by the way.”

“Oh?”

“Looks like we got ourselves another three days.”

\---

Castiel watched his teachers sipping at craft beer with more than a little envy. He had a strong desire to get drunk. Anything to escape the humiliation that had settled on his shoulders. Nothing had been said about their earlier activities, but he knew that it was coming soon.

Instead he stared into his soda, wishing desperately that his fries would come soon so he’d have something to occupy his hands.

It was Dean who spoke first. “So, Cas, about today…”

He shook his head, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. “It’s fine. Please don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Dean asked. “What do you think I’m going to say?”

Castiel felt his face heat up as he traced patterns in the condensation on the side of his glass. His words tumbled out in a rush. “You’re just gonna tell me that today was stupid, it was fucked up, and it can’t ever happen again.” He looked up briefly and caught the two men sharing a glance that looked… conspiratorial?

Paul laid his hand on top of Dean’s. “We’ve… discussed it, Castiel, and have decided that with a lot of specified consent and discussion about how this will work out — we can agree to certain things taking place.”

“You… you can?”

“Yes,” Dean answered. “But I want it to be explicitly clear — _you_ hold the power. If you feel uncomfortable in any way, just say the word and we’ll stop, no questions asked. At any point. And if you get home and want to change instructors in Math and History, we will help you facilitate that change. Again, no questions asked.”

Their food arrived then, and all wordlessly agreed to hold off on discussing the parameters of their big gay threesome until the waitress was safely out of earshot.

Castiel said nothing while he poured a copious amount of ketchup on his plate and picked up the first burning hot french fry. He considered the offer. Here he was, a sexually-frustrated, deeply-closeted young gay man, and two insanely attractive, kind, and trustworthy men that he _liked_ were presenting to him the option of three days of no-strings-attached, insanely-hot sex. How could he turn that down?

“So, Cas…” Dean began.

Paul jumped in, his voice cautious. “What do you…”

“I’m in.”

Paul smirked. “You’re welcome to think it over.”

“I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“All day?”

Cas shrugged. “I can’t help that you guys are hot as hell and hit all of my sweet spots in one pretty package.”

The two of them smiled at each other and Castiel couldn’t help but want to be apart of one of those looks. 

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Paul replied. He glanced at his husband once more before unwrapping his cutlery from its paper napkin bundle. “We feel the same about you.”

It was said so _casually_ but it still made every one of Castiel’s nerve endings tingle. They _liked_ him. Enough to want to let him join them in the _bedroom._ “Have you guys ever…” He frowned. “Is this something you guys do a lot?”

“It is something we’ve done before,” Paul said. “If that’s what you’re wondering.”

“But we haven’t exactly had the chance to make it a habit,” Dean added.

Castiel could obviously see the appeal of being physical with two people at once, but something still bothered him. “And neither of you get jealous?”

“I figured out a long time ago,” Paul said, “that Dean’s heart is more than big enough to hold affection for more than one person at a time.” He looked at his husband warmly before twirling his fork in his pasta.

Dean had already taken a large bite of his hamburger, fried onions and mushrooms threatening to slide free of the bun. “Yeah, what he said.”

\---

Despite their talk over dinner, Castiel’s stomach was a mess of nerves when he followed his teachers — “Dean and Paul, for _this weekend only_ ” — up to their room. There was no way he was going to survive the night without something to help calm him down. His fingers were twitching, his dinner wasn’t settling, and his head was starting to hurt from stress.

“Hey Cas,” Dean said as they got into the room, kicking off boots and hanging up jackets. “You’re looking a little green there. You okay?”

He nodded, head spinning a bit as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “Just a little…” he swallowed. “Overwhelmed.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dean said, sitting down beside him and laying a hand on his shoulder. Paul stood near them, silent concern on his face. “We don’t need to do anything tonight — we’ve got three days. We can just relax tonight.”

“That sounds good,” Cas said. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” Paul cocked his head to the side.

“How I usually relax…”

“You’re gonna have to fill me in here,” Dean said, confusion plain on his face.

“You kind of confiscated it.”

Paul covered up his laugh with a cough. Dean still looked confused, so his husband stepped up to fill him in. “He’s talking about the bag of pot we took from him. He wants to get high so he can calm down.”

Dean opened and closed his mouth once before speaking. “Oh.”

The question of what the two men would do hung in the air between them but they weren’t given any time to deliberate further. As the wind howled outside the lights chose that moment to flicker once, twice, and blink out, leaving the three of them in complete darkness.

Castiel immediately pulled his phone out and turned the screen on to illuminate the room. “Well, shit.”

“When I talked to the staff at the front desk earlier, they said this was a possibility.” Paul moved over to the table and chairs and grabbed the bag he had brought back earlier. “They gave me some candles and matches just in case.” He began pulling out the candles and setting them up on the table. Once they were all out, he used the matches to light them and held them out to Dean to help spread around the room. 

Castiel watched the two work together and wondered how many power outages they’d been through together before. “How long have you two been married?”

With a smile, Paul slapped Dean’s ass as he walked by. “Two years in June.”

“If we make it that far,” Dean teased.

“Well, you _are_ trying to leave me for someone ten years younger…”

“Nonsense. I’m trying to _share_ you with someone ten years younger.” In the candlelight, Castiel could see Dean winking in his direction. “Right, Cas?”

“Uh, yeah. Right.” Castiel had to admit that the light the dozen candles cast around the room was beautiful. Bold shadows jumped and lurched along the walls as the two men moved around the space. At least in the semi-darkness he felt less exposed, but he was still jumpy. “So, about that weed…” The bag flew at him and landed on his lap. He looked up to see Paul leaning against the dresser with his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face.

“You have to share.”

“You guys—” _No way._ Dean Winchester was way too high-strung to do drugs.

Paul laughed. “We were teenagers too, once. And I know for a fact that Dean spent a year in college trying to smoke every type of cannabis that exists.”

“Ugh,” Dean groaned, facing his bag and obviously looking for different clothes to wear. “Don’t fucking remind me. There are still entire months from that year that I can’t account for.”

“Well I doubt we’re going to smoke enough to make you black out. Besides, we can’t watch TV, and we should probably all turn our phones off to save the batteries.”

“Fine,” Dean said. He turned to Castiel. “Do you have any papers, or have I got to poke holes in a soda can?”

\---

Castiel had indeed been carrying a pack of rolling papers tucked into the liner of his bag — which he hadn’t checked. He’d also considered himself fairly skilled at rolling a joint — until he saw Dean Winchester.

“Now _that_ ,” Dean said, holding up his work, “is a thing of beauty.” The three of them were sprawled out on Cas’ bed, using a book set between them as a table, Paul holding a candle steady for light.

“You’re such a nerd,” Paul stated.

“Hey, don’t mock the master,” Dean replied.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” The two leaned in close to kiss.

“So, uh, we gonna smoke these inside or outside?” Castiel wondered aloud.

Paul motioned towards their tiny balcony that was cover in snow. “We could move over and open the door so that most of the smell goes outside.” 

“Ohh,” Dean grinned. “I’m totally carving a snow ashtray.” 

“Wouldn’t that—”

“Don’t bash my idea, P-dog, you’re the one that wanted me to get high.”

Paul groaned, head falling back. “I forgot about the monster that is created when you’re trying to get high.” 

It took a few minutes, but they transferred their stuff over to the floor by the balcony door and Castiel slid the door open as Dean held the joint over the candle’s flame to light it. “Man this brings back memories. All that’s missing is the pile of dirty underwear and the roach clip from that spring break in Cabo.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Castiel watched Dean as he inhaled, mesmerised. He held the smoke in his mouth for a few moments, passing the joint to Paul, on his left, as he let the smoke out slowly. Paul took the joint from his husband, doing much the same. When Castiel reached out to take it from Paul, however, he felt boldened. 

Taking in and holding as much smoke as he could without coughing, Castiel leaned close to Dean. He kissed the older man, his lips closed at first, then opening them to blow the smoke into Dean’s waiting mouth. Castiel deepened the kiss after the smoke was gone, his tongue pressing against Dean’s.

The third party in the room spoke up with a raspy, “Holy shit that’s hot.”

Castiel broke the kiss and shivered, holding the joint out for Dean to take another hit. 

It didn’t take long for Dean’s head to land on Castiel’s shoulder — his hand rubbing lightly along Cas’ bare thigh. The weed was definitely working — Castiel felt the nerves from earlier beginning to drift away on a cloud of smoke. In its place was a hot ember burning with desire. He _wanted_. 

He just had to figure out how to _get._

He watched the two intently, lust building in his gut, as they tried the pass-the-smoke-through-a-kiss maneuver as well. They broke out giggling in the middle of it, smoke leaking out the side of Paul’s mouth. 

Castiel couldn’t stop looking at either of their mouths.

“I think you need more practice at that,” he said. 

“I think you may be right,” Paul replied, with a lecherous grin that had Castiel’s heart racing. When he leaned in close with a mouthful of smoke waiting for Castiel’s lungs he cupped the side of Cas’ face with his free hand. As Paul blew the smoke gently past Castiel’s lips, he felt absolutely calmed with the steady presence of this man all around him. He reached out to his left, lacing his fingers in Dean’s hand when he found it.

Even after the smoke was gone, Castiel continued the kiss. Heat was flooding through his veins and he needed _more._ Making sure not to hit the candle, he moved across the space between his body and Paul’s and straddled the older man’s lap. Yes. _There._ That felt right. He ground his cock against defined muscle and suddenly even his loose fitting boxers were _toofuckingtight._

He was vaguely aware of Dean taking one more hit. “You guys want any more?”

“I’m good,” Cas said, not taking his eyes off Paul’s face. His skin buzzed and the room was just barely thinking about spinning — he was a long way off from his limit — but tonight he wanted to _feel._ He didn’t want to miss a single thing.

“I’m good too,” Paul said. “You can kill it — if you think you’re still going to be able to function after this.”

Castiel knew the moment that Dean’s attention went from the joint to more pressing matters. He knew because Dean shoved the candle out of the way and pressed his body up flat against Castiel’s back. He could feel the stiff jut of Dean’s erection and groaned as he leaned his head back on his history teacher’s shoulder. “I want things,” Castiel whispered. “But I don’t know what I want first.”

Dean slid his hand along Castiel’s stomach under his t-shirt as Paul had the presence of mind to push the balcony door closed behind them. “Well,” Dean said, his lips dancing behind Castiel’s ear, “you ever sucked a cock before, Cas?”

_I wish._ Castiel shook his head. “No. I… I’ve thought about it. But never…”

“Would you like to?”

“Yes.” He nodded enthusiastically as his gaze caught the fire in Paul’s gray eyes. Castiel licked his lips. “I really would. The only question is — who’s going to go first?”


	4. Chapter 4

The half a joint had gone straight to Castiel’s head.

He felt as though every inch of his skin were going to float away — if it weren’t for the two men pressing into him front and back, keeping him together. There were hands and lips everywhere and it was amazing but still not enough. Castiel wrapped one arm around Paul’s waist, steadying his position on his lap, as he leaned back to lick into Dean’s mouth. As he broke from Dean’s mouth, the older man closed in on his husband, claiming Paul’s lips. Someone’s hand found the back of Castiel’s head, and gently guided it between the two of them — causing all three to crash lips and teeth and tongues together.

When Dean pulled away, Castiel immediately felt the loss of heat and contact on his back. “Not that I’m not a fan of the floor,” Dean said, “but we’re gonna knock one of these candles over, I just know it.”

“Say no more,” his husband replied. Paul pulled both of Castiel’s legs around his middle, holding on tight to him as he rocked forward onto his knees and fluidly rose to his feet.

“Holy shit,” Castiel breathed. “You’re strong,” he said with a grin, giggling into Paul’s collar bone.

Dean jumped on the nearest bed first, landing on his back with a short bounce.

Looking over his shoulder, Castiel could see the hungry look in Dean’s eyes clear as day even in the candlelight. The trip to the bed was short, Paul’s strong arms supporting his weight easily, but he stopped about a foot away.

“Wait,” Paul said to Dean. “Push the beds together.”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” Dean responded. He hurried to stand back up and shoved the small nightstand out of the way so that he could slide the two queen size beds together, creating a super-sized bed big enough for all three of them. He motioned for Paul and Castiel to get on the bed, as he turned to rifle through his bag. “I sure hope we don’t run out of lube. I didn’t bring very much. PJ, did you bring any lube?”

“I really didn’t expect that we’d have much time alone,” he said, laying Castiel gently on the bed, one hand lingering on the side of Castiel’s face. “I only brought a little.”

Dean walked back to the bed with the two small bottles of lube that he’d found in their bags. 

From his spot on top of the comforter, Castiel cleared his throat and motioned to his suitcase. “I um… there might be a bottle in the front pocket.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow at that, but said nothing as he approached Castiel’s bag, unzipping the appropriate compartment. He produced a small bottle similar to the other two. “I think this should have us covered,” he said. “But seriously, we were coming to tour our nation’s capital, in a school group, and all three of us brought _lube?_ ”

“Always be prepared,” Paul and Castiel said at the same time. They looked at each other and immediately started laughing.

“Well, we sure don’t want another Denver on our hands, do we?” Dean said to Paul as he brought his bounty over to the beds.

“Denver?” Castiel wondered aloud.

“All I’m going to say,” Dean replied as he crawled onto the bed next to Castiel, “is never ever, _ever_ attempt to use honey as lube. Even if you’ve run out and are about to bust a nut.”

Castiel kept a straight face for all of two seconds before he fell back on the bed laughing so hard he was trying to breath. He could just imagine that scene playing out — and how hilarious it would have been to watch.

“I have to agree with my husband,” Paul said, laying down next to Castiel and running a hand over his chest, “as lube it was a disaster. But it tasted excellent.”

Leaning over, Castiel licked a strip along Paul’s neck before starting to suck on the same spot. His hand clawed lightly at Paul’s arm, trying to pull him closer.

“Dean,” Paul said over Castiel’s shoulder, “I think he wants me. What do you think we should do about that?”

“Mmm.” The noise came from directly behind Castiel. He could feel hands moving up the back of his legs and shivered. Dean’s next words were spoken right next to Castiel’s ear, “I think I should get his hole nice and stretched out so you can fuck him.”

A moan escaped Castiel’s lips, as he pressed backwards into Dean’s touch.

“Would you like that, Cas?” Paul asked, his words almost a whisper.

“Please,” Castiel said.

Paul shook his head. “No. Not good enough. _Tell me_ what you want, young man.”

The authority was clear in Paul’s voice, and Castiel couldn’t believe how strongly he reacted to being told what to do. His cock twitched, pre-come hitting the cotton fabric of his boxers. “I want Dean to stretch me open so that you can fuck me.”

Paul’s smile was easy. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Dean helped Castiel maneuver onto his hands and knees, boxers pulled down and tossed aside. Once Cas was settled in the right spot, he looked over to Paul. “Can I — can I try out giving a blowjob?”

“Of course,” Paul said. “Whatever you want. Do you want to blow me while Dean fingers you?” 

Castiel nodded. 

“Alright.” Paul stripped out of the rest of his clothing and moved to settle in front of Castiel. “Take your time, Cas. No judgements here.”

Castiel had seen Paul naked when he’d walked in on the two of them having sex, and he hadn’t shied away from looking at him then, but now he could take it all in. Somehow, feeling Dean behind him, his warm hands tracking patterns over Castiel’s back and thighs, made him feel relaxed and less exposed. Like if anyone else were in the room Dean’s body would be blocking their view of Castiel on all fours, his ass in the air.

Shifting to support his weight on one arm, Castiel ran his free hand over Paul’s chest and stomach. He had muscles, well-defined without being too bulky. It made sense — he taught a couple of P.E. classes as well as math, so of course he was in shape. 

His hands and gaze tracked down to Paul’s cock and he felt his mouth start to water. It was longer and thicker than his own, and curved slightly to the left in a way that Castiel couldn’t help but find hot for some reason. Ash-blonde pubic hair was trimmed and well kept around the base, and Cas licked his lips before wrapping his hand around Paul’s cock and leaning down to lick lightly at the tip. He caught a drop of pre-come on his tongue and moaned. As an inexperienced gay teenager, he had tasted his own come just to see what it was like — the real thing on another man was ten times better.

Paul let out a small moan at the touch — small though it was — and the reaction boosted Castiel’s pride considerably. He opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around the head of Paul’s cock, careful to keep his teeth as far away as possible. The taste of him was both musky and clean, and Castiel hadn’t expected to like it so much. He found himself chasing that taste before he realized he’d swallowed most of Paul’s cock in the process.

He was pulling back to the head of Paul’s cock when he felt the first brush of a tongue over his hole. “Shit,” he gasped, mouth full of cock. Two large hands gripped his asscheeks to keep him spread open, and Dean was going to town with his tongue. The feelings were _intense_ to say the least. He rocked back against it, as he tried to remember to keep sucking on Paul’s dick. It was like his brain was short-circuiting.

“Unh, Cas,” Paul moaned. “That’s good, my pet. You’re doing so well.”

Castiel could tell Paul had to make an effort to not buck his hips up into Castiel’s mouth, and he felt a burst of pride at doing so well his first time. He licked down the underside of Paul’s cock, mouthing at the base a little before sinking his mouth down on the rigid length again. 

Suddenly Castiel was caught off-guard when the tongue in his ass was replaced with a slick finger beginning to work itself inside. The uncomfortable sensation reminded him of the few times he had tried using a small vibrator against his prostate. He had never quite managed to make it work. 

This, though, felt amazing. He pulled his mouth off of Paul’s cock, too worried that he would get lost in the feeling and accidentally use too much teeth. When a second finger started brushing along his rim, Castiel’s forehead landed on Paul’s hip and he let out a shaky moan. “Please.”

Paul’s body shook a bit as he chuckled. “I think he likes that, Dean.”

“Not as much as he’ll like this…” 

The first finger turned, curling slightly at the first joint and then _BOOM_. Castiel’s hips jumped, his dick slid uncomfortably against the scratchy hotel comforter, and he cried out in ecstasy. The pleasure he had vainly sought so many times on his own was more intense than he ever expected it to be. When Dean’s finger brushed over his prostate one more time, Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and tried to gain control but it was too late. He rocked forward and moaned as he came without even being touched.

He gaped and gasped against Paul's stomach as his cock emptied itself onto the blanket underneath him, vaguely aware of Paul's hand combing gently through his hair. Dean kept his fingers in place as he lay a strong of kisses along Castiel's back.

"How was that?" Dean asked from over Castiel's shoulder. "How are you doin'?"

Looking back, the expression on Dean's face could only be described as _triumphant._

"Fucking... excellent," was Castiel's reply. "But, I didn't mean to... I mean, so fast." Embarrassment was welling up in his stomach, and he suddenly felt acutely aware of the difference between them in age, and experience. 

Paul sat forward, his cock still hard, and took Castiel's face in both his hands to kiss him. "I don't know what goes on in that health class Ms. Smythe teaches, but sex doesn't have to end just because you have an orgasm."

"This is very, very true," Dean mused. "And you've got the refractory period of, well, an eighteen-year-old."

"Yeah, yeah you're right," Castiel said, feeling better.

"And this is for the best, anyway," Dean added.

"It is?"

"It is." Dean began moving his finger again, slowly sliding it in and out. "The more relaxed you are for your first time, the better. I mean, you've seen that cock of his up close now. Think you're about ready for him to fuck you with it?"

Castiel’s eyes landed back on Paul’s hard cock and he quickly shook his head. One finger and an orgasm was _not_ proper preparation for that thing. “Maybe a little more?”

Dean placed a few more kisses along Cas’ back as he slowly pushed his second finger inside. “Let me know if you get too sensitive because of the orgasm. Paul here can’t be touched for an hour, at least, if his prostate is touched.”

“Yeah,” Paul nodded. “Part of the reason why I can’t bottom. It’s too intense and I become a crying heap on the floor.”

Castiel tried to picture that, and couldn't. Paul always seemed so composed, so in control. Maybe that was why he was so well-suited to topping. Castiel knew he had a lot to learn — he only hoped that these two men could teach him as much as possible in the short time they had together.

His attention was brought back to his body as Dean started to slide both fingers in and out of his ass. There was a little burn at first — extra lube definitely helped — but he could feel his body adjust to the added thickness.

Since he couldn’t seem to keep his mind focused on two tasks at once and had completely forgotten about Paul — Cas was surprised when the older man shuffled a little on the bed and turned so that his face was right below Castiel’s. He grinned, and Castiel knew exactly what he was suggesting by the position. Leaning down, he kissed Paul deeply as Dean’s fingers began to gently scissor — opening Cas up even more.

Castiel let himself get lost in the sensations, Dean's fingers making his body feel electrified, Paul's lips grounding and centering him. As Dean slowly worked him open, he began to need _more._ He pulled his lips away from Paul’s and grinned — slow and easy. “Will you fuck me now?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Paul groaned, surging up to kiss Castiel one more time. “I’d love to.” 

There was a bit of rearranging. Castiel turned his head to watch as Paul and Dean made out for a moment behind him. It was… _way_ hotter than it should have been. Then Dean was pulling away and sliding a condom onto his husband’s dick, before grabbing another tiny bottle of lube and making sure Paul was slick enough not to hurt Cas. 

Castiel appreciated the gesture. He wanted to feel a bit of the burn — but he also wanted to be able to walk the next day.

When Paul was ready, Dean moved up on the bed and laid down with his head on one of the pillows. He motioned for Castiel to slide closer. “You’ve already been in that position for a little while, so just in case it starts to hurt — why don’t you rest over me and if you need a break, I can handle your weight for a bit.”

He was skeptical about that actually being comfortable, but followed the instructions anyways. Dean had Cas put his knees on the outside of Dean’s thighs — lining their cocks up perfectly. It also put Castiel in the perfect position to lean down and make out with Dean like he had been with Paul. “Yes,” he whispered, kissing the side of Dean’s lips. “I like this.”

"Me too," Dean whispered back.

Castiel could feel Paul's hands on either side of his ass, thumb skating down his crack. 

"Cas..." Paul said reverently, "you look amazing. Are you ready for me?"

"Please," Castiel said, looking into Dean's eyes.

Moving his hand to Castiel's hip, Paul positioned the fat head of his cock at Castiel's entrance. He pushed in slowly, staying still once he bottomed out.

It felt like being fingered but also nothing like it at the same time. His first thought was _toomuch, toomuch,_ but he breathed through it, and the feeling passed. After a few moments, and a few tender kisses from Dean, it became _notenough._

“‘M ready,” he mumbled, forehead resting against Dean’s shoulder for a moment. “ _More._ ”

"Just let us know if you need him to slow down or stop, okay?" Dean said when Castiel lifted his face again.

"Okay." He saw Dean look over his shoulder a beat before he felt Paul pull out and push in again. Castiel groaned in pleasure, Dean's mouth finding his again as Paul set a slow but steady rhythm.

"Is he tight?" Dean asked.

"Very," came the almost breathless reply.

The beauty of their current position was the fact that every time Paul surged forward — the movement sent Castiel’s cock sliding along Dean’s perfectly. After a couple thrusts, Dean said quickly, “Hold on,” and motioned for Paul to hand him the bottle of lube. He put a small amount in his hand and reached down to coat his and Castiel’s cocks with it. Once the lube was tossed aside, Dean nodded for Paul to continue.

It was the right idea. With the slick between them, the easy pace had Dean and Cas moving together perfectly. Dean wrapped a hand around the both of them anyway, thumb skirting over the heads now and then. Between Dean's hand jerking them both beneath him, and Paul pounding into him from behind, Castiel was surrounded. And he loved every second of it. Castiel's orgasm — his third that day — was slow to build, but it hit him just as hard as the others had, if not harder. 

Dean's hand picked up speed at just the right time.

"Dean, I'm—" Castiel's breath hitched, and he began to spill over onto Dean's hand, cock, and stomach. 

"Cas," Dean moaned, the name becoming lost in Castiel's mouth, as he added to the come pooling on his stomach.

Paul only grunted, but his desperate slamming into Castiel told a different story, his fingers digging into Castiel's hips. One final thrust forward and he was frozen — buried completely inside Castiel — as his orgasm ripped through him. 

After a blink, Paul slowly pulled out. As soon as the pressure was gone, Castiel collapsed forward on Dean — exhaustion quickly setting in. “That was amazing,” he gasped.

"It was," Dean agreed, smoothing a sweat-soaked lock of hair behind Castiel's ear. "Babe?" he called in the direction Paul had disappeared. 

His husband emerged from the bathroom a moment later, condom discarded, and carrying a small towel that he passed to Dean's outstretched hand. "Fucking. Fantastic," he said, laying heavily on the bed next to them.

Castiel rolled to the space between the two men and let out an exhausted sigh. “I need so many cuddles right now.”

"Then," Dean said, wiping clean both himself and Castiel before tossing the towel clear across the room, "so many cuddles shall you receive."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've got two more parts planned out in this series. When the next part happens, of course, is up in the air. But this isn't the end of this beautiful, amazing, hot-as-hell, threesome.

The next morning Paul woke up first — he was perpetually an early morning person — and smiled down at the two men cuddled close together in the middle of one of the beds. When he and Dean had first discussed finding a third person to join their relationship, they hadn’t thought it would turn out like this. However, the excitement had brewed inside the both of them for months at the possibility. Unfortunately, there were situations like with Sean, where anticipation turned into disappointment as soon as the other person couldn’t participate. 

And now this. 

It felt like Castiel could be a great fit — the chemistry was there, he was interesting, and kind, and it _worked_ — but he was young. And, even worse, a student at the school they worked at. Even if the moral implications didn’t bother Paul quite as much as they did Dean, he couldn’t argue it wasn’t problematic. But, despite the taboo, the desire was there.

They still had at least one full day before they would be able to fly home — and Paul fully intended to make every last minute count.

His eyes tracked down the young man’s body and he smiled at the rise in the sheet covering Dean and Castiel. They had all fallen asleep naked and it turned Paul on to know that beneath that sheet lay rock hard eighteen-year-old cock just waiting to be devoured. 

He moved stealthily, sliding the sheet down gently to avoid waking the other two men. Just the first glimpse of Castiel’s hard cock had Paul licking his lips. He could think of absolutely no better way to wake someone up than with a sloppy morning blowjob. It was personally one of his own favourite wake-up methods — one Dean had mastered quite early on in their relationship.

Shuffling down the bed, he placed a few stray kisses along jutting hipbones, before licking slowly around the head of Cas’ cock. Castiel barely stirred, so Paul continued, closing his lips around the hard flesh and sinking down so wiry dark hairs were ticking his nose. As he worked his tongue around Castiel’s cock a hand came to rest on his head.

“Ohh, fuck. Paul?” came the thick, sleep-heavy voice.

Paul glanced up to meet Castiel’s gaze and winked at the younger man before beginning slide up and down his cock. _That_ had the hand on his head soon clutching at his hair. He responded by digging his fingers into Cas’ hips a little harder, and sucking him down a little faster. 

Soon the heavy breathing above Paul was replaced by a soft chant of his name, and Castiel was coming hot and salty into Paul’s mouth. He swallowed every drop, only pulling back when the body under him had relaxed. He looked at Castiel again, who was grinning sheepishly at him, before letting his gaze track back to a mostly still-sleeping Dean.

Dean slowly opened his eyes, taking in the scene in front of him, and quickly putting two and two together. “What, you didn’t save any for me?”

“Well, I would let you kiss away the taste of him,” Paul answered, “but you’re the one with the ‘no morning breath’ policy.” 

Dean rolled onto his back and shook his head. “That’s a good policy. Morning breath is disgusting.”

Reaching out, he slapped his husband’s thigh. “Well let’s brush our teeth so we can stay in bed and make out some more.”

“Yeah,” Dean immediately perked up at the idea and rolled out of bed. “Good thinking. Gotta piss anyways. Although, it isn’t going to be fun now.” He motioned down to where his cock was half-hard. “Did you really have to put on such a show before I peed?”

Paul cocked an eyebrow at his husband. “Are you really complaining?”

“Maybe. Maybe I’m pouting because no one thought to wake _me_ up with a blowjob.”

Castiel yawned, still more than a little relaxed. “I’d pay good money to see you two sixty-nine here on the bed.”

Dean laughed as he walked into the bathroom. “Save your money, Cas! Won’t be hard to get another free show out of this one.” He made to switch on the light, but nothing happened. “Shit.”

“What?” Castiel called from the bed, Paul having wrapped his arms around his chest.

“Power’s still out.”

“Well then it’s decided, then,” Paul said seriously.

“What is?” Castiel asked.

“We’re staying in bed.”

The toilet flushed in the bathroom and Dean poked his head out. “Teeth cleaned first!”

“He’s an orthodontic tyrant,” Paul whispered against Castiel’s chest.

“I heard that!”

\---

Around two they checked with the front desk. The power remained out but because of the inconvenience the hotel staff was feeding guests for free. According to one of the waitresses, the worst part of the storm had finally left and they were left dealing with clean-up. The power company had promised to have things restored by that evening.

Since they were all going a little stir-crazy in the small hotel room, they bundled up and decided to go for a walk on the snowy D.C. streets. Their hotel was only a few blocks off of the National Mall, so they headed south towards the White House in hopes of getting a few pictures.

The streets were virtually empty of cars, and only dotted with people. Dean fell into a natural, easy stride with Paul like he always did. The only thing unusual this time, was that having Castiel there too felt just as easy. When Dean glanced to his right, he looked beyond his husband and smiled at the sight of Paul and Cas holding hands as they walked. 

“Adorable fuckers,” he commented, the adoration clear in his voice. 

Castiel leaned backwards to smile at Dean over Paul’s shoulders, but didn’t say a word. 

As they made their way to the large wrought iron fence that surrounded the White House, Paul wrapped his free arm around Dean’s waist. “You know, I can see this place a million times and still feel a little awed by how much history has gone down in that building.”

“I don’t want to go home,” Castiel said, suddenly.

“Cas…” Dean turned to him and put an arm around his shoulder.

Castiel stared straight ahead through the fence as he spoke. “The trip… the trip was nice. I really did learn stuff. But this… having this with you guys? It’s been fuckin’ paradise. And I’m not just talking about the sex. Which — don’t get me wrong, has been amazing — but…” He sighed.

“It’s hard to say goodbye to the intimacy and sense of inclusion,” Paul offered.

“Exactly.”

\---

They had stood at the White House fence cuddled up for another ten minutes before Dean’s phone rang. It was the airline — they had an available flight leaving out that evening at nine p.m. It gave them just enough time to head back and pack their stuff up before heading to the airport.

This time, Dean made sure that Castiel left the rest of the pot at the hotel. Said he wasn’t taking any chances about making it home this time. 

As they stepped out of the taxi in front of the airport, Castiel found himself dragging his feet. Washington D.C. was a happy bubble that he wasn’t prepared to leave. He wasn’t ready for the shit storm waiting back home. The conformity that he would have to re-subscribe to as soon as he was back under his father’s roof, when he was back hanging out with the ‘popular kids.’

For the first time in forever, he had been able to accept himself and his own desires — and now he was being forced to shove all of that back inside in hopes that no one would notice. 

He _wasn’t_ ready.

Apparently Paul picked up on the hesitation, because as soon as they were through security, he steered the three of them towards a nearby bathroom. He opened the door for the ‘family restroom’ and shoved Dean and Cas inside before following and locking the door behind them. 

Dean stared at his husband like he’d lost his mind. “What the fuck? I know we’ve had a pretty close weekend… but I might have to set the limits at going to the bathroom together, Paul.”

Paul sighed. “We need to talk. All three of us.”

“In the bathroom?” Dean complained, clutching his backpack a little closer as he looked down at the dirty floor.

“Unless you want to talk about our sex life in the middle of the airport - yes, in the _bathroom._ ” Paul held Dean’s gaze and motioned to Castiel. “The kid needs it.”

Castiel bristled at the thought of being called a ‘kid’ — hadn’t he proved that weekend that he was anything but?

“Okay,” Dean said. “What do you want to talk about?”

Paul reached out, brushing his thumb along Castiel’s face. “What happens when we get home. I think we need to set up some rules.”

Castiel smiled at the touch. He wanted to close his eyes and lean into it. He wanted to wrap his arms around Paul and melt into him and have Dean surround the both of them. He didn’t want to think about being reasonable or responsible. “Yeah, of course,” he said.

“I know we said that this can’t be a thing while you’re in school — and I stand behind that,” Paul began, keeping his eyes and his touch on Castiel. “But you need to know that if something comes up — anything at all — we’ll be here for you.”

Dean seemed to get with the memo at that point, and he slid up on Cas’ other side, laying his head on Castiel’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around the younger man’s waist. “I agree. We both understand what it’s like to deal with being in the closet around family. It isn’t an easy thing — especially after experiencing what you have and seeing the type of person you can be.”

“O-okay,” Castiel said, trying to swallow his dread down. “But how… how am I going to act _normal_ around you guys at school? Because I’ll have to, right? Because no one can know.”

Suddenly Paul grinned. “I have an idea - what if we come up with a secret code where we can let you know, and you can let us know that you are thinking about us.”

“Yeah!” Dean said enthusiastically. 

Castiel resisted the urge to groan. He didn’t want secret codes — he wanted _them._ “I… I guess so.”

Paul leaned forward and brushed his lips just below Castiel’s ear. “It’s all we can offer until June, Cas.”

Cas froze, Paul’s words sending shockwaves down his back. _It’s all we can offer until June._ “June? Really?” He couldn’t hide the excitement from his voice. “I wasn’t sure—”

“That’s my plan. Dean?”

Castiel looked over his shoulder to see Dean smiling at him. “I think it sounds great. You in, Cas? I mean, you know, shit happens, but… you want to try this thing again in a few months?”

The idea of having a date to look forward to seemed to ease the pressure in his chest. Castiel nodded. “I would… I would really like that.”

“Good.” Paul’s smile was warm. He bent down to kiss Castiel on the lips, before pressing close to Castiel to do the same to his husband. Castiel was squished tight between them for a minute, his breath pressed close in his chest. He found himself thinking he never wanted space to breathe comfortably ever again.

\---

The plane home was practically empty. That, coupled with the fact that they were in one of the last rows of coach, had the three of them snuggling beneath the same blanket without much worry about who saw them. They had slept so much over the past few days, that they didn’t feel the need to while on the plane — so they got a couple hands of cards and a movie in before the boredom started to settle over them.

Castiel straightened up to glance over the seats and take in their surroundings. The drinks service had just passed through, so the flight attendants wouldn’t be back around for a while. The row across from them was completely empty — as were the rows in front of and behind them. 

He smirked, waiting only another moment before reaching out to his left, beneath the blanket, and rubbing his hand along Paul’s thigh. At first he had squawked about having to sit in the middle — but now he was beginning to see the advantages.

Paul’s back stiffened and he sucked in a breath — a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Dean. But he seemed content to sit back and watch, his eyes on the wandering shape under the blanket that was Castiel’s hand.

As Castiel’s fingers teased along the inseam of Paul’s jeans, he looked to his right and smiled at Dean. “I liked that movie. Any ideas on what to watch next? It’s always so… _hard_ for me to decide.”

Dean’s tongue swept across his lips and he sucked it back in slowly. He’d had his seat belt buckled — even though the arm rests between them were all raised — and Cas heard the distinct _click_ of the metal clasp being undone.

A very loud voice in his head told him to reach over and rub along the front of Dean’s pants at the same time — but Castiel wasn’t sure he was that coordinated. And there was no real way to play it off if one of the flight attendants _did_ happen to walk by. So he settled for leaning over to kiss Dean’s cheek, as he undid the button and zipper of Paul’s pants without needing to look.

Dean shifted his hips to face the other two. He rested his hand on Castiel’s knee as he pressed in close to whisper under his ear. “You gonna jerk my husband off, Cas? Gonna get him off right here?”

Cas said nothing, just nodded, holding steady that green gaze. He reached into Paul’s pants, feeling his way under the waistband of his boxer briefs. He was already half-hard.

“Did I ever tell you,” Dean continued his voice low and dark, “that my dearly wedded over here has a bit of an exhibitionism kink? Absolutely loves the idea of getting caught.”

“Really?” Castiel turned, eyeing Paul and the look of desire on his face. “That doesn’t surprise me. I bet he’d fuck me right here in the middle of the plane if I asked him to.” Castiel began stroking, smiling as Paul’s cock hardened in his hand.

“Oh, I know he’d fucking love it,” Dean said, and Castiel was thrilled that Dean appeared to like this game. “He’s such a show-off. He’d bend you right over a seat where everyone could see — or he’d fuck both our mouths at the same time. Show everyone that we’re both his.”

It was muffled, but Castiel caught the slightest hint of a groan passing Paul’s lips. It was nice to torture the other man a bit. Make him lose a bit of his control and ever-present composure. Cas flicked his thumb along the seam at the head of Paul’s cock, brushing the bead of precome down with his next stroke. “Have you ever seen him lose control, Dean? What’s it like?”

“I have.” Dean’s eyes flashed and Castiel’s heart thumped in his chest. 

_This’ll be good,_ he thought to himself. “I bet it was fucking hot,” Castiel murmured, his hand twisting back and forth around Paul’s cock.

Dean met Paul’s gaze as he spoke. “For my birthday last year, he let me tie him up and do with him as I pleased. Pretty sure he didn’t expect me to do much more than sit on his face — which, I did — or that he’d love it so much. Being helpless.” Dean glanced up, looking across Cas to where his husband was very obviously trying, with great effort, to keep his cool. “Being mine. I spent two hours driving him _insane_ — bringing him to the edge over and over until I finally sat down on his cock and fucked him senseless. Afterwards, he was so worn out that he slept for twelve hours straight.”

The words went straight to Castiel’s cock, and he used his right hand to press down against the bulge in his pants. “Do you think he’ll lose control now? Come for me, right here in the middle of the plane?”

“I know he wants to,” Dean said. “He’d never admit it, but I know he wants to blow his load all over your hand.”

Castiel licked his lips and watched the tension in Paul’s face. “I wish he would. Because I’d love nothing more than to lick clean every bit of it. Can’t leave a mess, ya know?”

Paul had a pained look on his face, before gasping once, and fake-coughing into his hand. To any innocent passer-by it would look like Paul had just choked on a complimentary cracker. Castiel knew the hot, sticky fluid suddenly flushing over his hand told a different story. “I… fucking… hate… you… both.” Paul hadn’t spoken the entire time Castiel had been jerking him off, and Cas was surprised at how _wrecked_ his voice sounded now.

Without hesitation, Castiel brought his hand out from under the blanket and quickly licked up the mess of come on his fingers. Once he had finished, he raised his eyebrows. “I don’t see how you can complain. I’m the one that has to deal with wet pants for the rest of the flight.”

Dean arched an eyebrow questioningly. “Wait, so you… just now?”

Cas brushed his clean hand through his hair, suddenly feeling exposed. “I couldn’t help it,” he said. “The way you were talking…”

Groaning, Dean shook his head. “Fuck. That’s… _fuck_ ,” he whispered. “Why is that so hot?”

Castiel shrugged his shoulders. “I guess you just have a way with words.” Still looking at Dean, Castiel felt Paul crowd him, and press a quick kiss under his ear.

“Thank you,” Paul said. He readjusted himself, and Cas could just hear him zip his pants back up.

Castiel felt warm, basking in the attention of these two wonderful men. He didn’t want to give it up, but hopefully he wouldn’t have to for long.

The plane speakers ding-donged, preceding the pilot announcement, and suddenly they were being told that the flight had almost reached its completion and that the flight attendants would be coming through one last time to pick up trash.

Every minute that they grew closer to Kansas, Castiel felt dread settling deeper in his stomach, until both of his hands were suddenly clasped tight beneath the blanket. On either side, Dean and Paul sent a silent reassurance that home didn’t mean goodbye.

And that was exactly what he needed.


End file.
